4 comments:

I first heard this poem when you read it on Thanksgiving night, but have been (re)reading it all evening today, on and off, while cooking soup, two soups in fact, red and green. It's charmed me indefinitely. Thank you!

what did you make this yearwhat did you fake or fearfrom your queer place in the worldwhat smoke curled or clearedas we neared one anotherwhat reared its head and said or notwhat you thoughtwhat brought this on or thatdawn or duskwhat husk of a half-lifehave you huddled togetherhell or high waterwhat son or daughter did you becomein the sum of your partswhat black arts or blue colored youwhat came true or troubledor bubbled overor doubled for a good deedwhat did you bleed or brood overor at bestwho guessed that we wouldstill be herecelebrating another year in the desertwondering about the futurewhile eating a potatoor a slice of piewhat low point or highdo you find yourself fancyingwhat's your answer when askedwhat's in it for youin the queue that leads to the end of dayswhat brays way down deep in the back of your souland lays you down wholeor piece by piecewhen you need releaseyou and me bothwhat i need mostis a toast